


Sway With Me

by TARDISTimeLord



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Belly Dancing, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTimeLord/pseuds/TARDISTimeLord
Summary: Dorian mentioned it at the ball, the Inquisitor had mentioned it a few times after, it was time to give Trevelyan what he wanted.





	Sway With Me

**Author's Note:**

> For any mood setting:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUjSk9XGraY
> 
> I also loved writing this, as much as I hope you enjoy reading it. <3

It had been a solid week after when the party had come back from the gala at the Winter Palace. Dorian had, admittedly, loved it there. Despite all of Josephine’s efforts to make Skyhold a center of trade and wealth, Skyhold didn’t quite have the luxuries Dorian was used to. Sure, the chair in the library was more than comfortable and there were more than plenty of books. Not the best books, of course, but books to fill Dorian’s insatiable hunger for knowledge of course. Then, every night they were still in Skyhold, he was whisked away to Amatus’ apartments where there was a, albeit tacky, fur covered bed for sleeping and… other things. 

He had tried to change the decor in very small increments, and no one could blame Dorian for a lack of trying. Under the mass of furs there was a silk sheet covering the bed, and unbeknownst to Trevelyan, the quality of the wine at the table had increased significantly. All thanks to the evil Magister occupying Skyhold. Currently, however, Dorian was fingering the scarves strewn about on the bed. There were ten of them in total, special ordered from Orlais and delivered in secret from everyone but the Spymaster. There was no escaping her ever-extending eyes. The cheeky woman had even given Dorian a wink on his way up here with the anonymous package in his arms. Even thinking about her reaction had set a gentle blush on Dorian’s cheeks. Which was so unlike him. Then again, everything the Inquisitor brought out of him was unlike him. 

Shaking his head, Dorian began to undo the buckles on his clothing, goosebumps following wherever his fingers touched. Nothing had happened and the Inquisitor wasn’t even in the room, and he felt more nervous than anything else. He had performed this dance numerous times for numerous lovers, even once or twice in a tavern far from home where no one could recognize a Magister’s son. Dorian’s shirt slid off with ease and he set it aside, neatly folded. Next to go were his pants and then his underclothes. Shivers slid down his spine, and not the pleasant kind either. Before he froze to death, Dorian closed the doors to the balcony, swearing under his breath as he did so. He tried to breathe some warmth into his now-shaking hands, returning to the bed and grabbing his clothing. He set them in the dresser neatly, next to the Inquisitor’s formal wear that had been torn off after he came back from the Winter Palace. 

His fingers trailed over it for a moment before he returned to the damnable scarves. They had started as a joke for his Amatus. Just a one off comment he made that would, unbeknownst to Dorian, begin a desire from the man. There had been small hints throughout the last week that led to Dorian sneaking off to Val Royeaux and making a small order. He sighed, and set about his work, clothing his muscular body with the scarves.

The door to the chambers finally opened after what felt like ages. By this time, Dorian’s nerves were on fire and his stomach was all in a knot in his throat. He heard the door close, and stood up from the small loveseat he had moved in front of the fireplace. He smiled at it briefly before blowing out all the candles in the room and dousing the fire with a brief spell. He stood in the dark, and he heard the Inquisitor slowly inching his way up the stairs, wary for attack.

“It’s just me,” Dorian warned, walking into the center of the bare area in front of the fireplace. “I want darkness for this moment.” Emboldened, his Amatus strode to him easily, finding one of Dorian’s hands in the dark and the back of his neck. The taller man pulled him a little closer, so their chests touched. He didn’t notice that Dorian was covered in scarves with only his hands and head showing. Dorian’s face tilted up ever slightly to kiss the other man, a smile alighting his lips as he did so.

“I thought I’d have to pull you away from the library,” Trevelyan breathed against his lips, tickling his own with the hairs on Dorian’s face.

“Of course not. I have a surprise for you, and it can’t wait.” He could almost hear the eyebrow cock at that, and the entire mood change in the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood with the crackling energy his lover was exuding.

“Surprise?” Trevelyan inquired, his hands simultaneously leaving Dorian’s hand and neck and heading towards his hips. Dorian danced away before he could touch the silk, only a whisper of the fabric brushing against the searching hands. “What are you doing, Dorian?” The man in question couldn’t help letting out a soft giggle as he pushed the man towards the couch and made him sit with a soft grunt. “Dorian? I’d like to know.”

“You’re as thick as ever, Amatus,” Dorian whispered as he bent down to press a light kiss against the man’s lips. “And you’ll find out in less than a minute.” With a snap of his fingers, the candles he had strategically placed around the room relit, setting the room in soft glow, the outline of Dorian’s form in shadow. A soft, strangled noise escaped from the Inquisitor as he stared at the man in front of him.

“Oh, Maker.” Dorian giggled again as he cast another spell for the fire in the hearth. Instead of springing to life like the candles, it smoldered for a moment before lighting low and soft. With this, he could no longer see the Inquisitor’s face, but the other man could see every detail of his. And every detail of his body, as well. 

He had layered the scarves on his body to cover it completely. The top scarf was a crimson the color of their regalia at the Winter Palace. It was draped over him like a floor-length shawl. The Inquisitor’s jaw dropped a little bit, and he smiled wide, suddenly understanding what it was that Dorian was surprising him with. With another quiet snap of his fingers, soft music seemed to float from an indeterminable direction. It was very drum heavy and nothing like anything else the Southern man had ever heard before. As the music began, Dorian’s arms spread to the side, and he began to sway his hips and arms so as to make the silks move and dance around him. The Inquisitor was immediately mesmerized by him. It wasn’t long until the large scarf came off and fell onto the bed. Underneath this top layer was what looked like a skirt made of scarves artfully tied onto Dorian’s hips so that with every movement they swayed with him. He rose on his toes, and his hips moved in a way that was almost impossible. They were flowing like water, making the scarves shimmer and sway. One muscular leg snaked its way out, making his hips turn in circles and gyrate to give the man a perfect impression of Dorian’s backside. It left nothing to the imagination. Trevelyan’s eyes reluctantly left the lurid display below the belt and scanned upwards to his abdomen and chest, which were criss crossed with two scarves and wrapped down around his arms. 

The dancer spun his way over to the middle of the performance space, still wiggling his hips and abdomen as he did so, entrancing the Inquisitor even further. His dancing suddenly unwrapped his arms and chest in a sensual way, and Dorian folded in half over a leg that was bent outwards. He deposited the two scarves on the floor, making momentary eye contact with his Amatus before his hands were sensually touching his calf, his thigh, and then upwards. The man on the couch’s mouth ran dry, wanting to be those hands, wanting to be those scarves. Articulate fingers danced their own way up his body, the tan skin giving a soft glow in the firelight. His body rolled and his hips swayed before they began to shake back and forth in time with the music, his scarf-skirt swishing and swaying and sensuously caressing his legs. Dorian’s hands came down again, deftly undoing the belted scarf around his hips, spinning and undoing it so that it unfurled and unfolded around his chest, his hips doing that movement again that accentuated his backside and hips. The Inquisitor was baffled at the skill it must’ve taken in his core muscles to be able to do that, and his mouth somehow ran drier.

The dance seemed to stretch on forever and was far too short at the same time. The skirt clung to his hips, teasing him, and the Inquisitor wanted so desperately want to ravish the man. Finally, Dorian spun his way over to the couch, picking up the final layer of wrap and putting a leg on either side of the man.   
“Finally,” The Inquisitor almost croaked, his throat going dry with the feeling of strong thighs on either side of him. Dorian’s low giggle filled the ever diminishing space between them. Their lips met with all the fervor of the dance previously performed, their erections pressing against each other through the cloth. Dorian reached down and placed the Inquisitor’s hands on his hips, so he could feel them moving. 

“You’re… amazing…” He could feel the mage’s smile against his lips. 

“I’ve been told.” Deft fingers began to flick open the buttons on the Inquisitor’s shirt, spreading it open. 

They soon discarded the shirt on the floor, Dorian’s head dipping and biting the bony crest of a collarbone. “Come.” He stood and grabbed Trevelyan's hands, leading him over to the plush bed against the wall. He pushed one of the most powerful men in Thedas onto the bed, kneeling between his strong legs. His hands slid up from ankles to calves to thighs and untied the top of his pants, unlacing them. A low, almost shaky moan left Trevelyan’s throat as Dorian gripped his erection. He palmed it, feeling the silky skin under his fingertips. A smile crossed his lips. He pressed his lips to the side of the shaft, slowly opening his mouth and sucking at the skin underneath. He slid along the length, wetting it, before he took the tip into his mouth. Flicking his tongue along the slit, his hands ran up the toned warrior’s stomach, holding his lover to the bed. This is what Dorian was good at. Being on his knees, cock in his mouth. This is what his experience was in, and he reveled in it. He loved the feeling of being so much more powerful than a man who could change the world with a flick of his hand. He worked his way down until the tip of his nose touched the soft curls. Two hands ran through perfect coiffed hair, gripping it at the back of his head. He let the Inquisitor guide him, thrusting in and out as much as the bed and Dorian would allow. 

A slow and steady pace soon became quick and heady as the Inquisitor came to a crest in pleasure. Dorian’s saliva was dribbling down his chin and onto the other man’s skin, making everything increasingly wet. He knew he looked an absolute mess, and his jaw began to hurt. Dorian pulled away from the man, sliding his leg onto the bed with pleasure. His knees had begun to hurt, after all. His other leg slid along the other side of the man, and he adjusted the final scarf around his hips around them. His erection was clear, pressing against the silk and it felt as exquisite as his favorite things in life. The Inquisitor’s eyes opened slowly, a pink tongue peeking out to lick very dry lips. Dorian smiled, walking himself down with his hands so that he could press a kiss to his favorite lips in the world. The man’s moustache tickled his upper lip, and he smiled.

“I love you,” he confessed quietly, in the dark where vulnerability seemed not so important. The fire crackled in the fireplace, giving the bedroom a feeling of home. Andraste’s tits, was he home whenever he was with this man.

“I love you too.” Calloused hands slid up his arms to his cheeks, cupping Dorian’s face. “Maker’s breath, I love you more than anything.” It wasn’t anything more than a whisper, but the confession was louder than a shout from a mountaintop. Dorian shifted down, pressing the head of the Inquisitor to his already well prepared entrance. He had expected this to happen, had hoped for it. He slid himself down easily, gritting his teeth through the tougher parts of it. Soft moans came from Trevelyan as he bottomed out. Time seemed to stop and stretch on forever as they waited with bated breath. Dorian lifted himself up slowly, sliding the other man out of him. They clasped their hands together, Trevelyan giving the mage a light squeeze. The Tevinter man smiled down at him, pushing down again. They slowly built a rhythm together, rocking on top of the furs together, the silk bunching up around Dorian’s legs more and more with every down stroke. They worked each other into a frenzy, until Trevelyan pulled one hand away from Dorian’s, using some spit to create an initial lubricant. He pushed away the fabric, gripping Dorian’s cock, beginning to stroke and spread the pre-cum. Dorian’s pace stuttered for a second before resuming. They gripped their hands tightly, Dorian’s eyes screwing closed. 

“I’m gonna,” he grunted, spilling himself across the Inquisitor’s chest and stomach. He felt himself being filled, and he stopped moving. Trying to catch his breath, Dorian grabbed the last silk scarf, wiping himself and the Inquisitor’s chest. He slowly, shakily, stood, feeling the chill in the air finally. The Inquisitor joined him standing, pulling the furs back. Dorian stretched, every muscle in his body feeling weak and sore. He stepped away from the bed, making to go back to his own rooms in Skyhold. He felt warm fingers grip his elbow and pull him to a strong chest.

“Don’t leave,” Trevelyan whispered into Dorian’s ear, nibbling it gently. “Stay here with me for the night.” The air felt heavy, pressing down upon Dorian. If he chose to stay the night or not would change their relationship forever. It would create an entirely new dynamic between them. He took in a deep breath, leaning into the Inquisitor. 

“I’ll stay,” he murmured, turning around in the Inquisitor’s arms and pressing a kiss to his lips. “At least for the night.” The Inquisitor smiled, pressing another kiss to Dorian’s lips.


End file.
